Monday, December 26, 2005
You ask if we've stopped because I need to pee, and I say that not only do I have to pee, but it is becoming pretty urgent.
We get out of the truck, and you walk around to me. "Are you my pet?"
"Um, yes?" "Then come with me."
You take my hand and we walk (rapidly - it really is urgent now) toward the buildings. The place is deserted at this hour of the morning, and the grass is covered with snow.
We reach the point where we need to turn to get to the bathrooms, and I try to do so, but you're holding my hand tightly and you turn your head and smile, "Not there, pet."
I knew that telling you I was your pet was an iffy proposition, just from the look in your eyes, but now I'm really wondering what you have in mind for me. I'm still in only my tiny skirt and blouse, stockings and high heels - surely you can't expect me to continue walking around with you when you know how badly I need to pee. And it is cold, which is making things worse, not better.
We reach the end of the sidewalk, and you lead me out into the snow. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
And then I do. I don't quite believe it - surely you must intend to turn around and let me return to the bathroom.
You lead me to a semi-secluded spot, and position yourself between me and the highway, "because it is your first time". Then you grin and say, "Squat."
I just look at you, dumbfounded. You remark that I had agreed that I am your pet, and this is the pet area, so I should now be squatting to relieve myself.
I know we aren't going anywhere until I comply, (and my bladder feels as though it is about to burst) so I take both your hands to steady myself and I squat in the snow.
We get out of the truck, and you walk around to me. "Are you my pet?"
"Um, yes?" "Then come with me."
You take my hand and we walk (rapidly - it really is urgent now) toward the buildings. The place is deserted at this hour of the morning, and the grass is covered with snow.
We reach the point where we need to turn to get to the bathrooms, and I try to do so, but you're holding my hand tightly and you turn your head and smile, "Not there, pet."
I knew that telling you I was your pet was an iffy proposition, just from the look in your eyes, but now I'm really wondering what you have in mind for me. I'm still in only my tiny skirt and blouse, stockings and high heels - surely you can't expect me to continue walking around with you when you know how badly I need to pee. And it is cold, which is making things worse, not better.
We reach the end of the sidewalk, and you lead me out into the snow. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
And then I do. I don't quite believe it - surely you must intend to turn around and let me return to the bathroom.
You lead me to a semi-secluded spot, and position yourself between me and the highway, "because it is your first time". Then you grin and say, "Squat."
I just look at you, dumbfounded. You remark that I had agreed that I am your pet, and this is the pet area, so I should now be squatting to relieve myself.
I know we aren't going anywhere until I comply, (and my bladder feels as though it is about to burst) so I take both your hands to steady myself and I squat in the snow.
